


I'll Shape Your Belief

by FoxNonny



Series: Child, the Darkness Will Rise [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, I am also sorry for these tags it is very late/early where I am, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, if Fenris - Solas interaction is a party you are looking for this is that house though come on in, if that is the party you are looking for this is the wrong house I am sorry, it's mostly a character study, maybe kind of graphic violence, note the lack of "/" between Fenris and Solas this is not a Fenris/Solas fic, nothing graphic in either column tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6042100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxNonny/pseuds/FoxNonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fen'Harel has found a reason to interfere with the lives of mortals again. Fenris has an odd companion in his dreams that he does not remember upon waking. The world of Thedas is moving very swiftly towards an abyss of chaos and change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Shape Your Belief

**Author's Note:**

> If some of you are seeing this series for the first time, it's because the first instalment was not listed in the Fenhawke tag. I would highly suggest reading it before this one - I promise it's very short, but sets up the headcanon that I'm running with in this series. Spoilers for That One Big Twist in Inquisition, title for series and fics from the song Mordred's Lullaby. Thanks to everyone who commented and left love on Guileless Child, your interest in this headcanon is entirely why more stories are happening. I have at least one more planned after this, hopefully more will spring to mind, and I'm totally up for taking suggestions if there are things people want from this series.
> 
> Also, I have a midterm today and I wrote this instead of studying, so I dedicate this fic to my prof who writes shit on the board in unreadable handwriting and makes fun of us for taking a while to write it all down because we're trying to decipher it. You're kind of a jerk, and you keep shitting on any majors outside of science, despite the fact that over half the kids in your class are lib and fine arts majors who took your class because Ocean Science sounded fun. You ruined that fun, sir. You brag about your failing rate and I'm about to prove you right because the thought of studying was very depressing and the thought of writing was not.

He is the Dread Wolf, Fen'Harel, trickster. He wanders the Fade and he does not interfere in the lives of those who walk the waking world. That was, after all, the _point._ The reason for his great crime, his fatal mistake. 

But there is another wolf, like him, that he cannot forget, and for whom he made an exception. 

The thread of anchor that binds him to the boy tugs, and he tries for so very long to ignore it. Years. He already interfered once, let the boy live, let loose a power into the world that had not been seen for centuries. That alone was far too much. 

But one night the tug on the anchor, that echo of misery, is too much to put out of his mind.

He finds the boy - a man now, really, nearly twenty and so very old for his age - in the Fade, dreams flickering around him as half-formed memories of his waking life. Fen'Harel watches, and quickly looks away, hot fury burning through him. Tonight, the magister used his slave - not for the first time, but then proceeded to lend him out to his colleagues. Humiliated and in pain, there is no rest for him in sleep.

Fen'Harel changes to another form, the Wolf, and pads quietly over to Fenris's side where he lies, shivering. He does not weep - has not wept in years - but his body is held tight as a bowstring.

With a huff of breath, the Wolf clears the dreams away, leaving only a sky full of stars before he makes himself visible to Fenris. The elf blinks in surprise, looking first to the sky above, then to the Wolf.

"I've met you before," he says, the Fade granting him a clarity he will not possess when he wakes. 

The Wolf nods. _I can give you a dreamless sleep again._

Fenris curls in on himself. "Please."

The Wolf settles next to him, and Fenris presses close, fingers curling in his warm pelt. It's closer than the Wolf has been to another living thing in a long while. 

_Sleep,_  the Wolf says, and Fenris falls limp against him. The Wolf presses his nose into Fenris's white hair, and bares his teeth. _I look forward to the day you tear your master's throat from his neck, Little Wolf._

-

The Wolf doesn't always speak to Fenris. More often than not, he remains silent, and often does not become visible to the boy at all.

But more frequently, he falls into Fenris's dreams, and when he needs it, pushes them away. Gives him the only gift he can, a true rest. 

He does not like to think what this means, or how he's reminded of children long dead when Fenris moves close, seeking comfort. 

The Wolf does not let him remember these nights during his waking hours, but the few times he lets Fenris see him, there is recognition in his eyes, a relief that he feels reflected in his own heart.

-

Fen'Harel is speaking to a spirit of wisdom, his friend, when the anchor pulls taut.

He should ignore it, in truth, but it's his friend who tilts its head and smiles. _Go. The child needs you._

Fen'Harel bows, and leaves. A spirit of wisdom is not one to be disregarded, after all.

Fenris is in Seheron this time, collapsed in a cave after two days of running. Last Fen'Harel had checked in on him, he'd been very pleased indeed to see him out of his master's hands. In the hands of Fog Warriors, unfortunately, which was not entirely ideal, but they'd been kind to him, slowly teaching him the meaning of freedom.

In the Fade, Fen'Harel approaches as the Wolf again, to find Fenris reliving a grisly scene. 

One by one, the warriors fall, lungs crushed in their chest, throats ripped open, hearts torn out and thrown down at the feet of a laughing magister. His Master. None of the warriors fight, only watch as their friends fall around them, sympathy and disappointment in their eyes. 

And Fenris, covered in gore, blood matting in his brilliant hair, conducts the execution, confusion and horror in his eyes.

_Enough,_  the Wolf says, and the vision fades, leaving Fenris alone in an imitation of his physical state - kneeling on a cave floor, still bloody, haunted.

"I killed them," he says, staring at his gauntlets. "I killed them."

_Yes._

"They kept me alive, I hunted with them- they were-" Fenris rips off his gauntlets with a wretched cry, throwing the gory things across the cave. "They should have killed me."

The Wolf tilts his head. _You wish to die, now? Is that your plan?_

"They should have killed me, but I would be a coward to rectify that mistake myself," Fenris snaps, dragging his hands through his hair. "It would be a sin against the Maker."

The Wolf settles back on his haunches, a little amused despite himself. _I did not know you were Andrastian, Little Wolf._

"Don't call me that," Fenris says miserably, wrapping his arms around his knees. "That was- _his_  name for me. I- I almost considered myself a free man, yet all my master had to do was ask- he came back for me. Because he cared for me, did he not?"

The Wolf's lip curls over his sharp teeth, a half-formed snarl. _In his own way. But only for what you could do for him, as his slave, never as a person. You know this._

Fenris buries his face, a low hiss drawn through his teeth. "I ran from him. After slaughtering them, I ran. But why? Why not before? Why did I not stand with them, if I ultimately wished to flee? Where am I going to run? Is there even a _point?_ "

_It is your nature to be free. I had always hoped you would break loose from your chains. You were always meant to run, unfettered, Little Wolf-_

"Don't _call_  me that!"

_It is what and who you are._

Fenris lifts his head, shoulders drooping. "Then it is _all_  I am, my master's pet. His killer. If there is a purpose for me beyond that, I do not see it." He looks away. "Perhaps it is best that I return-"

The Wolf closes the distance between them in a single bound, snarling as he knocks Fenris down, pinning him to the ground with his enormous paws, teeth scant inches from his throat. 

There is no fear in Fenris's eyes as he stares up at Fen'Harel, trapped, and moments from death. He lifts his chin, baring his throat - a challenge wrapped in submission. 

"Will you do what they could not, then, Solas?" Fenris says quietly. "Will you take my life?"

The Wolf is furious, _furious_  with him, with his own blood, and he's killed for far less rage than this. But he cannot kill this boy. 

He unsheathes his claws, piercing deep through Fenris's armour and into the flesh of his chest and shoulders. Fenris shouts in pain, but does not struggle against him. 

_Foolish, idiot boy,_  the Wolf hisses. _You are so very eager to punish yourself - there, now you have the pain you so desired. If you return to that magister now, prostrate yourself before him and beg for forgiveness, then you will have utterly perverted all that those people lost their lives for. That sacrifice was for you, and your self-pity has made you ungrateful._

"I never _asked_  them to die for me," Fenris grits out, wrapping a hand around one of the Wolf's paws to try to ease the pressure of the claws. With a flex, the Wolf drives his claws in deeper, and Fenris lets his hand fall away with a short gasp. 

_And yet they did. You have your life, your freedom. I will not see you fall to weakness and despair._

The Wolf sheathes his claws, sliding them easily out of Fenris's flesh, and walks away a few paces, growling. Fenris sits up slowly, a hand to his chest. Though the wounds bleed freely in the Fade, when Fenris awakens they will be nothing more than faint scars that he will not remember receiving. 

"What would you have me do?" he asks, sounding exhausted. 

The Wolf growls to himself a moment longer, then changes to his other form, turning back to stand tall before Fenris with folded arms. 

"The magister will not take your flight lightly," Fen'Harel says. "You will have to keep moving, likely for many years. I doubt the man will stop until you are dead, or he is, and I currently have little faith that you would have the strength to kill him."

Fenris flushes at that, anger and shame mixing in his expression, but he does not deny it. 

"Until you learn to hate him, until you find that rage, you will run," Fen'Harel continues. "Run with your eyes _open._  Learn. You cannot fight until you know what it is you are fighting for." 

Fenris holds his stern gaze, and nods. 

The trickster turns to the mouth of the dream cave, thinking. "You have two days on the man, and I doubt he'll chase you long through this jungle without aid. He'll have to decide between losing you now with a greater chance of capturing you later, or staying on your trail and gambling his speed against yours. Stacked odds, I would say."

"Master Danarius said he could find me through these markings," Fenris says dully.

"He is not your master anymore," Fen'Harel says, looking back to Fenris. "He is Danarius. Say it."

Fenris's eyes widen a little. "He is... Danarius."

It takes effort, Fen'Harel can tell, but he does it. He nods his approval. "Good. You are not a slave. You are not property. You belong to no one, least of all that magister. If that is indeed the case, and he can track you, then you are fortunate for the time being, less so in future. You should take this time to rest."

There is an echo of a scream in the cave, a flash of a Fog Warrior falling dead while choking on her own blood, and Fenris winces. "I will try."

Fen'Harel feels the anger in his chest unravel a little, and he crosses back over to Fenris, who eyes him warily.

"Give me your hand, child," he says, holding out his own. 

A little apprehensively, Fenris offers up his hand, stained with blood and lyrium. Fen'Harel takes it in a firm grip. 

"I am proud of you," Fen'Harel says. "The road ahead is long and lonely, and you will need your strength for it. Do not run because I tell you to, but for your own sake. Understand?"

"I suspect I will learn to," Fenris says. "For now, I go on your word - though likely as not I will not remember it when I wake up."

Fen'Harel grins, full of teeth. "Part of you will. Now sleep."

He catches Fenris as he slumps back, lowering him down gently. He does not leave until both Fenris and the cave have faded from sight. 

-

The world is changing, and Fen'Harel cannot ignore it for long. He has begun to make his own plans, and wrapped up in them as he has been, he has not visited Fenris's dreams in some time. Years have passed, in fact, though they feel like mere minutes to the Dread Wolf. 

The anchor pulls.

He doesn't consider ignoring it this time. 

He finds Fenris in a decrepit mansion, old corpses littering the halls. A horrible ruin of old luxury. And yet, he is surprised to feel the life force of Fenris has seeped into the walls, the way it would if he'd been living here for years. 

Fenris is very drunk, swigging from a bottle of red wine before a fire that crackles without warmth. That is how he presents in the Fade, at least. Likely he has not even realized he's fallen asleep. 

He is also, Fen'Harel is very surprised to see, crying. Weeping openly for the first time in nearly two decades, now. 

He flickers between shapes for a moment, deciding on the Wolf. In past, Fenris has been more open to seeking comfort from that shape, rather than that of a man. He pads quietly to Fenris's side. 

_I see I have missed some things, in my absence,_  he says.

Fenris huffs a short laugh at that, mirthless. "You've been gone a while."

_There have been... other matters to attend to,_  the Wolf says, shifting closer. _You've stopped running._

"In a way," Fenris says bitterly, taking a long draw from the bottle. "I'm letting the old bastard find me. I'd give anything to have his heart in my hand, listen to _him_ beg for mercy before I crush it."

The Wolf bares his teeth in a grin. _You've found your anger._

"It has been all I have had these long, empty years," Fenris says, wiping the tears from his face brusquely. "My anger, and hatred. And it is all I am likely to have, now."

_You're upset._

"You don't say." Fenris puts his face in his hands. "I am a fool. An utter fool. I thought... I thought I'd run far enough, long enough, that I could have- that I could have what I've seen others have. I should have known. _Venhedis,_  I do not know what would be worse now, to leave or stay."

It is then that the Wolf realizes what is wrong. He is, after all, very old, and has seen this particular grief time and time again.

He also realizes that he is potentially the worst companion for the child to have in this moment. Still, he is the only one here, and this is his blood. 

_You are... ah. You have- there is someone in your life, I take it?_

Fenris, even through his misery, seems perfectly capable of casting the Wolf a distinctly sardonic look. "Is this a difficult matter for you to discuss?"

The Wolf shifts his weight awkwardly. _Not difficult. Unexpected, perhaps. I've- it's not been an especially significant nor successful part of my life._

Fenris snorts. "The acorn falls not far from the oak, I suppose."

Fen'Harel stiffens, regarding Fenris keenly, but the words are drunken and fall from his lips without full knowledge of their meaning. It's clear, however, that some part of Fenris knows. A complication that the Wolf did not anticipate, but should have. _Fool and fool alike._

_If you do not wish to discuss it, I understand,_  the Wolf says. _But I am curious as to whom you've given your heart to._

"More than just my heart, now," Fenris says dully. "A great man, far better than myself. And a mage, of all the wretched things. An apostate."

The Wolf blinks. _Your hatred extends to mages?_

"How can it not?" Fenris snaps. " _Mages_  did this to me. _Mages_ measured me in pounds of flesh they could put to their use, not as a man. It was _mages_  who violated me in every way a man can be violated. In a country where mages were free to do as they pleased, they showed without shame what pleased them, did they not?"

Though he can feel counterarguments springing up, reactionary words to fight Fenris's prejudice, the Wolf knows that now is hardly the time. It's his own fault, after all. Leaving Fenris alone all those years he spent running, learning. He'd not been there to shape the boy's mind, focus his anger.

Still. _And yet, the one you love is a mage._

Fenris slumps. "Yes. Believe me, I have started to... question, certain things. He is a good man."

The Wolf would like to know exactly who this "good man" is, and make such a distinction for himself, but he's pleased to know that whatever Fenris's misguided thoughts are regarding mages, there is a chance for his mind to be changed. _I am glad for you then, that you have him._

"I _do not_  "have him,"" Fenris says, hurling the bottle of wine to some shadowy corner, where the indistinct haze of the Fade swallows it whole. "I almost- we almost- but no, my hatred, my _anger_  is there instead. These memories I've clung to, all I had to guide me, have poisoned me. I thought I could be happy with him. All I wanted..."

Fenris clasps his hands together and takes a long, shuddering breath. The Wolf does not move, does not speak. 

"When I left Danarius, there was... an emptiness," Fenris says slowly. "He forced me to build my life, all I am, around him, what he wanted. In my waking hours, he was my only guide, my only _friend._  I knew nothing outside of him. And every day, those first few years, I thought of turning around and going back to him - if not just from the fear, and the cold, and pain, but the sheer _loneliness._  Instead, I willed myself to hate."

He looks to the Wolf, his eyes hard. 

" _That_  was what I learned, Solas," he snaps. " _That_  was what you told me. You told me I needed the anger to be free of him. And you would not let me remember who planted that thought in my head when I awakened. _Where were you?_ "

Startled at the sudden change in conversation, the Wolf rears back a little. _You would blame me?_

"I would ask why you disappeared," Fenris says, his voice a growl. _A wolf's growl._  "I would ask why I had _no one_  to ask for help, _no one_  to turn to. I remember your presence throughout my time with Danarius, more than you know. Why did you care then, but not after? _Fasta vass,_  who _are_  you? Some demon of the Fade?"

The Wolf's hackles rise. _There have been far more important things requiring my attention. You are one mortal._

"I am aware," Fenris says coolly. "Then I apologize for mistaking you for a friend. It will not happen again. And I know by now that I will forget you entirely when morning comes, so you can rest assured I will not hold this grudge for long."

The Wolf snaps his teeth, once, and Fenris does not flinch. With a snarl, he turns and lopes away, out of Fenris's dream and into the Fade. 

Fen'Harel runs from dream to dream, through nightmares and fantasies alike, feeling... well, _feeling._  Guilty, and scolded, and angry with himself for ever getting involved. 

Angry that he's deathly curious as to who in all of Thedas Fenris has fallen in love with.

_You will not believe it, even if you knew, fierce Wolf,_  a voice whispers to him.

Fen'Harel stops short, looking around. This part of the Fade is relatively empty, and there is no obvious source of sound. _Who speaks?_

There is a woman's laughter, ancient and familiar, and a dream opens up before him. 

A bedroom dressed in red finery, and there is Fenris by the fireplace, fully armoured, shoulders hunched. 

" _I'm sorry,_ " he's saying - the dream version of him, at any rate. " _I feel like such a fool. All I wanted was to be happy... just for a little while._ "

A memory, more than a dream, Fen'Harel realizes, watching Fenris leave. _But whose?_

He looks to the bed to see a man lying there, dark-haired and amber-eyed, looking utterly heartbroken as Fenris disappears out the door. The Wolf snorts. It all seems rather stupid, two men crying over one another on different sides of the same city, wishing the other were there. 

But he thinks of Fenris's tears, the accusal and wretched loneliness writ large on his face, his own guilt, and his amusement fades.

_So you are him,_  the Wolf thinks, circling the bed, careful to remain hidden. The mage lies back in his sheets, his palms over his eyes. _The great man, the apostate. Rather lavish entrapments for a renegade._

He casts his gaze about the room, searching for hints, anything that might reveal the man's identity. He doesn't know the aristocracy of Kirkwall very well, hasn't kept up with it in a great long while, but surely not all his information is out of date...

His sharp eyes fall on the Amell crest, and his memory sparks. _Amell?_

The name Amell has been whispered through the Fade of late, and with it-

The Wolf lets out a sharp bark, causing Garrett Hawke to sit bolt upright, eyes wide. "Who's there?"

But the Wolf is long gone, cantering back through the Fade with his ancient mind spinning, an old woman's cackle close on his heels.

-

Fenris is lying on an old mattress far from the master bed, gripping a scrap of red cloth tightly to his chest when Fen'Harel returns to him. 

_Garrett Hawke. That's the apostate you've fallen for._

Fenris says nothing.

The Wolf settles next to him, close but not too close. _I notice you've eschewed the larger bed._

"I've slept in it before," Fenris says shortly. 

The Wolf cannot respond to that. He knows what Fenris is saying.

"I... apologize, for my temper," Fenris says, sitting up to face the Wolf, worrying absently at the cloth in his hands. "It was childish."

_To me, even if you live to the fullest extent of your years, you would still be a child,_  the Wolf says. At Fenris's narrowed eyes, he adds, _If only because I am so very old._

"I imagine so," Fenris says dryly. "Still. I spoke out of drunken anger. You have only ever helped me, Maker knows why."

_And yet you were not wrong, entirely,_ the Wolf says. _I should have kept a closer eye. Time is so very unforgiving, and mortals have so little of it to spend._

Fenris smiles a little, a strange sadness in his eyes. "I imagine that must be lonely."

The Wolf blinks.

It's not occurred to him, truly, that the years that slip by so quickly are bringing them closer to the inevitable conclusion of Fenris's life. He is young still, both in immortal and mortal terms, but already there are lines in his face that were not there the last time the Wolf visited. 

Fenris is an elf, closer to a true elf than most... but not close enough.

_Would you choose immortality?_  the Wolf finds himself asking.

Fenris raises an eyebrow. "Are you offering?"

_Merely wondering._

Like when Fen'Harel offered him a choice between a hard life and an easy death, Fenris takes pause, thinking through the question. A warrior, certainly, but with a philosopher's mind, the Wolf assesses with no small amount of pride.

Eventually, Fenris's gaze falls to the scrap of cloth in his hands, his grip tightening around it.

"I have had enough of loneliness," he says softly. "And I have made a great many mistakes in the short amount of time allotted to me thus far. I cannot imagine what an eternity of loneliness and mistakes would be like."

The Wolf winces. 

Fenris is still staring at the cloth, his expression falling to grief once more. "He's been teaching me to read."

_The apostate?_

"Yes. He was kind, when he discovered I was illiterate. Many in this part of the world would take it as a sign of idiocy." Fenris sighs. "I should leave. Maker knows I've done enough damage."

The Wolf grinds his sharp teeth, biting back a growl. He's seen the ebb and flow of time, watched the cycles of the world pass by enough to know that Garrett Hawke is a man that attracts trouble. The kind of trouble that shapes worlds in chaos and blood. A dangerous man to follow, an outright suicidal man to love. 

But he sees the misery in Fenris's eyes, remembers how he spoke of loneliness. Knows the cold emptiness of having no one.

_He has me,_  Fen'Harel thinks, and immediately discards the thought. No, he does not. His scant help and scarce visitations, forgotten by day, can hardly help combat the crush of isolation and unwanted solitude.

_He would not want you to leave,_  the Wolf says, cursing himself with every word. 

"I doubt he would want me to stay," Fenris says. "I humiliated him. I humiliated myself. I should never have stayed this long."

_It took strength for you to run from your master, but you did it because it was right to do,_  the Wolf says. _I am the last person to tell you what is right, I think, but I will tell you that I know you have strength enough to stay._

Fenris looks at the Wolf for a long moment, then looks away. He bites his lip.

"I truly have no right to ask this," Fenris says quietly. "But... I do not wish to dream tonight. Of anything."

The Wolf settles closer, nudging Fenris onto his back with his snout. _You need only ask. It is nothing._

"Thank you," Fenris murmurs, burying his hand in the Wolf's fur like he has so many times before, so many years ago. 

The other hand clutches the scarlet cloth close to his chest, and for a moment the Wolf can't help but bare his teeth a little at the sight of it.

_Sleep, Little Wolf._

-

Fen'Harel feels it when Fenris rips his master's throat out. 

He is in his Elvhen form one moment, then a Wolf the next, snarling with a sudden rush of bloodlust. He feels it all, the tremendous energy of the moment, the satisfaction and relief, the desperation, the overwhelming confusion. 

Once he has his own senses back, he hauls his wild form back into himself, willing himself to be calm. Still, it's with grim satisfaction that he continues his walk through the Fade, a new destination in mind. He has his own vengeance to seek.

He catches the magister's soul on its way through the liminal space of the Fade near Kirkwall, nearly out of the trickster's reach. Nearly.

But not near enough.

With a hard, short tug of magic, Fen'Harel pulls the soul together to form the magister's spirit, an imitation of his human form. He is old, and cruel, and clearly both enraged and terrified.

"That wretched _cur_ killed me!" he spits, stamping a foot on the ground. He realizes he has company a moment later, his face slipping into a greasy smile. "Ah, yes. I had hoped one of you might recall my services over the years. My thanks, friend. What can I trade to regain my physical form? I am a very powerful ally to have walking the world, I assure you."

Fen'Harel considers him. "I can give you anything you would like, magister. Whatever your heart desires. I would dearly like to know what that is."

Danarius's eyes light up with greed. "How wonderful! Rest assured, the debt would be repaid in full."

Fen'Harel nods, waiting.

"I should like to live again," the magister says, lifting his chin. "Obviously this has all been some ridiculous misadventure. My slave's new master is formidable, to say the least, and a Ferelden half-wit. I will flay him living when I return, and make my pet watch. Ah, that is another thing. I'd planned to wipe the slave's mind when we returned to Minrathous - a precaution, really - but it would be such a shame. I imagine you could make him love me, as he did. Realize how he has strayed. I _made_ him to serve me, and there was a time where he did so willingly. Very willingly, in fact." Danarius shakes his head. "This has all been just so massively disappointing. But I confess, I did favour him. Still do. He is both my greatest accomplishment, and my greatest failure."

"I might say the same, to an extent," Fen'Harel murmurs. Louder, he says, "So that is what you wish? Your life, and Fenris as a slave once again?"

"I would have him beg for his collar," Danarius says fiercely. "I would have him on a leash, begging for my forgiveness. Begging to serve me. That is what I wish."

Fen'Harel smiles. "I thought so."

He waves a hand, and Danarius drops to his knees, naked save for the collar wrapped chokingly tight around his neck, his hands and feet shackled and chained.

He struggles and wheezes as Fen'Harel nears, chains clinking, rubbing his knees, wrists, and ankles raw against the cuffs and the hard, cutting rock of the Fade beneath him. " _Release me this instant!_ "

"I often consider myself an embodiment of the sin of Pride, if ever there was one," Fen'Harel says, letting his form change slowly, teeth turning to fangs, fingers to claws, all while the magister watches in growing horror. "But _you_. I should thank you for your pride, truly. If you'd not been so heinously prideful, I would never have known who you tried to take from me." 

"W-who are you?" the magister asks, pulling at his chains again. "You s-should know, demon, I have _many_  friends of your ilk, _many_ whom I have served faithfully-"

Fen'Harel laughs. "Served, and never understood. Would a slave call upon his master for aid, _magister?_  For that is all you have been to them. They will likely enjoy your screams as well as I shall."

"P-please-" Danarius babbles, as Fen'Harel drops to his paws, prowling closer. "I s-swear, I will do anything- anything you ask-"

_I will have what I want from you, do not worry,_ Fen'Harel says, as Danarius scrambles back until the chains pull taut, whimpering. _I will take it in blood. Have you seen a soul devoured before, magister? Torn to pieces, swallowed whole?_

"W-what are you?" Danarius whispers, Fen'Harel's snarling muzzle inches from his face.

_Your first death was at the hands of Fenris, my blood, the Little Wolf that was never yours,_  Fen'Harel says. _Your second death shall come by the teeth of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf._

The magister's screams echo throughout the Fade as Fen'Harel rips the spirit to shreds, and both demons and not a few spirits alike laugh to hear them.

-

Garrett Hawke watches Fenris sleep, tucked up close in his arms, one hand pressed against his chest, the other curling in the sheets at his side.

It has been a bitch of a week, and despite Anders' healing efforts both he and Fenris are still bruised from head to toe. Beyond that, he knows, there are wounds in Fenris's heart that have yet to heal. 

They talked for a very long time, in that crumbling mansion, in the days following Danarius's death. Of Fenris's future, his fears, and Hawke's fears as well. They talked of what came before, three years ago when Fenris walked out the door. 

Hawke hoped. Three years, he's spent hoping, knowing that if friendship was all they could share, he'd share it gladly. But still he hoped. 

They were both afraid, but they decided it was far better to be afraid together than apart. And now, that fear seems far easier to bear, with Fenris here, and safe. 

So he closes his eyes, breathing in Fenris's scent, revelling in his warmth.

When he opens them again, the edges of the room are softer, the moonlight a little brighter, and there is an enormous wolf in Hawke's bed. 

Hawke's first instinct is to pull Fenris closer, put himself between his lover and the beast, call for his magic, but like a nightmare he is pinned in place, unable to move. 

Instead, he watches as Fenris shifts in his arms, reaching out to the wolf, running his hand over the monster's pelt. He smiles a little, eyes still closed, still fast asleep, some of that constant frown between his brows abating. 

The wolf presses its massive head against Fenris's hair, breathing in for a long moment. Then it turns its gaze to Hawke. 

Hawke is fucking terrified.

The wolf rises, filling Hawke's vision, and stands over Fenris, pushing Hawke back with an enormous paw, pinning him down against the mattress. It leans in close until their faces are nearly touching, and as it bares its teeth Hawke can see that the fangs are stained crimson with blood.

"D-don't hurt him," he pleads, struggling to move, to protect. "Don't hurt Fenris. Please."

Fenris murmurs in his sleep, frowning as his hand slips from the wolf's fur, falling to the empty sheets.

The wolf's eyes narrow.

_I will be gone for some time,_  it says, its voice echoing in Hawke's mind, causing tears to spring to his eyes. _Gone to rectify my mistakes, as I should have done years ago. You will make sure he is safe, no matter the cost._

Hawke finds himself nodding, as if he understands what the wolf is saying, and he is shocked to find that he _does_ understand by some strange instinct beyond his conscious mind. "I will."

_Will you? If it were your life or his, you would put him first?_

"I would. I will. You have my word."

The wolf glares down at him for another long moment, assessing him with frightening intelligence, then he lifts his paw and Hawke finds he can move again. 

Instantly he scrambles to pull Fenris close against him, hauling him away from the beast, and Fenris begins to wake, blinking wearily. "Garrett, what...?"

The wolf leans over and huffs a gentle breath over Fenris's shoulders, ruffling his white hair, and Fenris falls instantly limp in Garrett's arms, deeply asleep.

_Farewell, Little Wolf,_  the wolf says, a soft sadness in its terrible voice. _You will see this world renewed, I swear it. All will be as it should._

"What does that mean?" Hawke asks, a great dread filling his heart. 

The wolf barely spares him a glance. _Sleep, Garrett Hawke, and remember your promise, if not the one you promised it to. If you prove true, I will do my best to spare you, for his sake._

Before Hawke can voice a significant amount of apprehension at those words, he is asleep, and Fen'Harel is bounding away.

There is much to do.

**Author's Note:**

> FENRIS AND SOLAS ARE RELATED AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE PLEASE DISCUSS IN THE COMMENTS BELOW. I LOVE YOU ALL.
> 
> (Also hoping I didn't write anyone out of character in this story. Really wanted to balance Solas's kind of... mysterious aloofness with the amount of care and emotion he has when he's really passionate about things. What an egg.)
> 
> ((Also also did anyone catch the Flemeth cameo cause honestly I feel like she'd find the whole Fenris/Hawke situation hilarious given the context.))

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Loyalty Only To Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945162) by [GrimSister21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimSister21/pseuds/GrimSister21)




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